The realm of Forgotten Layers was lost to winter. Snow and ice covered dead trees. Flowers that once bloomed all year round were nowhere to be seen. The garden of the inn was buried under a blanket of white, the small fish in the littering ponds frozen in still life beneath the surface. The rabbit, Pascal, had been rescued by Jeremiah from the outdoor hutch when the changes started happening to the realm. Though both ravens, Hope and Light, had been journeying beyond when the realm had lapsed into a season of cold and had yet to return. There was enough in storage for the man and rabbit to survive, but for how long it was unknown? without the Lady Izira present the death of the realm was inevitable?

--

The dream was real. Her mind was slipping again. She didn?t remember leaving the small room she?d been keeping in the city, but here she was standing on the outskirts of the borders to her realm. Had her unwillingness to return halted her hesitant feet or had it been the soft cries of the two ravens perched in green covered branches? They watched her with dark eyes. Each bird crouched to either side of the first tear that led into the realm, waiting for what she would do.

Her eyes had been clear of color, but with her awareness returning so too did the amber-brown tint bleed back into her irises. Those orbs shifted from black feathered bird to black feathered bird, catching in the silence their call for her to go back. She retreated a step, feeling nothing between her foot and the ground. Grass gave way to mud. It was then she realized she how wet and cold she was. Looking over her thinned frame, finding herself dressed in a sheer white night shift. Little was left to the imagination as the soaked fabric clung to her form. Had she forgotten this would be a result of her action, that madness included blackouts of time? She hadn?t forgotten, just hoped it would have held off a while longer.

It had been night when she?d gone to bed. Now the darkened sky had fled away from the morning light, leaving only a thin strip of its memory on the horizon. Was it only the next morning or another morning after that? Standing in a small clearing within the woods, there was no way for her to know. Body turned to face the direction the city of RhyDin rested. She should go back there, return to her room. There were plans in the making, dinners and a party. A few new people in her life, maybe not friends yet, but perhaps soon? And her friends that were? They were unseen, unavailable, as distant to herself as her own heart had become. Standing at the brink between one world and another, Izira could tell how alone she had become in her life. How alone she had always been. At the edge of her realm, her heart felt closer and she could feel that it was broken still. Not over a man, but her life in general. Her heart was broken, it had always been broken. She didn?t know if she would be whole again.

Movement in the woods broke the lady from her melancholy. A dark shadow that was there one moment and gone the next, blacking out the space between the trees before vanishing. The ravens remained steady. Izira couldn?t help but wonder if the shadow was her mind slipping away once more. Amber-browns searched into the forest beyond, half hoping to see the shadow once more and half hoping against it. Which was better?madness or an unknown shadow? Izira started to think the answer to that was a lose-lose situation?

Izira had no thoughts as the shadow brought her through the tear to the realm she had fled from. No awareness in her mind as the season suddenly changed from spring to winter within a breath, nor as the shadow that held her leg turned into a man. He towered over Izira, standing six foot four inches at his full height and built like a redwood tree. He was tall and thick and solid, wrapped in thick protection from the unseasonal weather of the realm. Walnut brown hair, touched with golden copper, peeked out from under his navy blue wool hat in short curls. It reached down the sides of his face and around his chin and mouth, building a beard of medium thickness that reach over a matching scarf. Bright green eyes shone from a face that was a youthful looking thirty, though tired and drawn. Jeremiah.

It had been a risk to him to go beyond the realm, even a few feet. Until the realm was whole, he was little more than shade when he left it and with the realm in the state it was in he was barely that much. What little it was, though, had been enough. He hadn?t wanted to hurt her, but there had been no other way. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, Izira needed the realm and more so the realm needed her. When the ravens had perched outside the tear and sent a message to him that the lady was near, he knew he would do whatever it took to bring her back. Thankfully, whatever it took was short of having to kill her. That would have aided no one in the end. Still, now that he had done what was needed, she wasn?t in the best of shape.

Jeremiah bent a knee into the snow, first working to pull down and straighten out the fabric of Izira?s shift before lifting her into his arms. She was as light as she looked. He frowned down at the body he held cradled, unable to avoid feeling guilty for how everything had turned out. Solid fingers moved to brush the hair from her face, guiding it to fall behind her head. Gently, lips were pressed to her forehead?lingering?as he closed his eyes. She had almost been lost to them. ?Welcome home.? Bringing his hand away from her hair, it returned to him covered in blood. She wasn?t in the clear yet, they needed to get back to the inn. He turned with her in his grasp, holding her tightly as the tear back to RhyDin closed behind them. Then quickly as he could, back through the snow he went, heading for the inn. Above them the two black ravens followed.

--

The realm to the Forgotten Layers inn still exists, though its borders are closed to the land of RhyDin. Those seeking the tear to reach that place will only wind up wandering through unchanging, unmagical forest. Perhaps if they journey far enough they will wind up in the pastures where farmers tend cattle and horses beyond the city of RhyDin. Nothing remains but the knowledge of the place and the woman that was once there. Who the lady was will become little more than a missing person?a missing boarder from a small inn, a missing bar mistress from The Great Helm, a missing patron from the local shops, a missing face in the crowd. The birds she fed in the parks will go on as will those she never met. Perhaps those who knew her will wonder, but eventually they too will go on. Eventually the lady and the realm, there one moment then gone the next, will fade from memory and be forgotten.